Don Turtelli Meets The Flintstones
by MissFeral
Summary: With the help of a time machine, Don Turtelli travels back to the Stone Age and meets up the Flintstones.


Don Turtelli was relaxing in his penthouse, watching Channel 6 news. Reporter April O'Neil was sitting in a studio, interviewing an old professor who invented a so-called time machine.

"So tell me about your machine, professor," said April, extending the microphone to his mouth.

"Well, dear, all you have to do is step inside the machine and tell it what year you want to travel to," explained the professor. "Then you will be off to that time."

Don Turtelli wondered if this time machine really worked. He had an idea about going backward in time. He figured that if he could back in time, he could collect all kinds of old-fashioned stuff that would be worth a fortune when he got back to the 1980's. He could gather together some kitchen utensils, dishes, clothes, weapons, furniture…anything.

Then, when he returned to the present he could sell the stuff to the museum and become filthy rich. The plan was perfect. All Turtelli had to do was sneak into the building and travel back in time for a few minutes. He would bring a couple of henchman with him in case somebody gave him trouble.

They waited until late at night and drove over to the studio where time machine had been filmed earlier that day. The henchman deactivated the burglar alarm and broke into the building, wearing stockings over their heads. Don Turtelli held the flashlight as they looked for the room where the time machine was kept. When they found it, the henchmen broke into the room and turned on the light switch.

"There it is, boss."

The machine was tall and shaped like a cylinder. There was a door on the side and a small window.

Turtelli smirked and snapped his fingers.

The two cronies moved forward and opened the door carefully and slowly, so they wouldn't break anything. Turtelli walked into the cylinder and his cronies followed him.

"Hold onto your hats, boys. We're going for a ride," Turtelli said.

With that, he pushed some buttons, turned a dial, and told the machine to go to the Stone Age.

 **xXx**

It was a warm spring afternoon in Bedrock. Wilma Flintstone and Betty Rubble went into town to go shopping, leaving Pebbles and Bam-Bam in the care of their husbands. Fred was sitting on the couch, watching a wrestling match on TV. Barney stood by the window and kept an eye on the babies who were playing in the yard.

"Gee, Pebbles and Bam-Bam are sure having fun in that sandbox," Barney said to Fred, who was barely listening.

"Hey Barney, come over here and watch the fight with me," Fred said, excitedly. "You're missing a great match."

"I'd like to, Fred. But somebody has to keep an eye on the kids."

"Get Dino to do that."

"Uh, okay."

Barney whistled for Dino, who came running and barking excitedly. The playful dinosaur sat at Barney's feet and waited for his instructions.

"Now Dino, keep a close watch on Pebbles and Bam-Bam," Barney said with a wag of his finger.

Dino began to bark enthusiastically.

"Don't let anybody get near them," Barney continued, "If you see a stranger getting close, come right in here and tell us, okay boy?"

Dino began jumping around and waging his tail, thrilled to be spending time with the adorable youngsters. He rushed out the door and into the yard.

"That's takes care of that," Barney said, taking a seat on the couch beside Fred.

The two buddies watched the exciting match until they heard Dino barking wildly outside.

"I think something's bothering Dino," Fred said, keeping his eyes glued to the television. "Go see what's the matter with him, will ya?"

"Oh, okay." Barney reluctantly got off the couch and went to look out the window.

"Well?" Fred said, after a moment. "What's going on out there, Barney-Boy?"

"Uh…Fred?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you come over here for a minute?"

"What for?" Fred grumbled, "Can't it wait?"

"Fred, I think you should see this right now."

"Oh boy…," Fred mumbled to himself as he left his comfy seat and walked over to the window. "Now what's so important that you had to drag me away from the wrestling match?"

Barney pointed toward the yard. "Look, Fred."

Fred looked out and saw a tall, metallic thing sitting on the grass. It was shaped like a cylinder and had the width of an outhouse.

"W-W-What is that?!" Fred stammered.

"I don't know but I think we better stay far away from it," Barney replied, nervously.

"Wait, where are Pebbles and Bam-Bam?"

"They…they must still be outside!"

Fred began to panic. "W-What? We have to go out there and get em'!" With that, they dashed out into the yard and called out for the babies.

"Bam-Bam! Pebbles!" Barney called, cupping his hands around his mouth for volume. "Bam-Bam, come to Daddy!"

"Pebbles! Where are you?!" Fred shouted, growing more frantic.

"Hey…did you two lose some kids?" asked a deep, gruff voice.

Fred and Barney looked up and saw a tall, dark-haired man with a mustache and a dark suit. He was carrying Pebbles in one arm and Bam-Bam in the other.

"Pebbles! Oh, thanks, mac. I thought I lost her," Fred exclaimed as he took Pebbles and cradled her lovingly.

"And thanks for finding my son Bam-Bam," Barney said, taking his little boy.

"No problem," the man replied. "So…do you guys live around here?"

"Yeah, my house is right over there," Fred said.

"And I'm his neighbor," Barney said, proudly.

"I see," said the man.

"By the way, my name is Fred Flintstone and this is Barney Rubble."

"My name is Don Turtelli."

"Turtelli?" Fred said, curiously. "Hmm…I never heard of ya. Are you from out of town?"

Don Turtelli smirked and glanced at the time machine. "You could say that, yeah. I'm from way, way out."

"Do you want to come into my house and sit down a while?" asked Fred.

"Our wives went shopping but they should be back in an hour or so," Barney said.

"That would be nice," Turtelli said, "can I bring a couple of friends with me?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so."

Turtelli snapped his fingers and his two henchmen appeared from behind the time machine. "Alright, now listen boys, we're going to this man's house and I want you to behave yourselves. Got that?"

"Got it, boss," they answered.

Fred and Barney exchanged a confused look.

Moments later, Turtelli and his cronies were sitting on Fred's couch, drinking ice cold cups of cactus juice. Turtelli was examining the cup to see if it was rare enough for the taking.

"So what brings you to Bedrock, Mr. Turtelli?" Barney asked.

"I'm…looking for loot."

"You mean you're looking for stuff to buy?"

"Not exactly," Turtelli said, before finishing his last drop of cactus juice. "You see…I am in dire need of cash these days."

"He needs money," said a henchman.

"Can't you find a job?" asked Barney.

"You're not getting it, are you?" Turtelli grumbled, squeezing the cup in his big hand. "I came to this crummy little town for one reason and one reason only." He slipped the cup into his jacket.

"Hey, that's my cup," Fred reminded him.

"Shut up, fat boy," Turtelli barked, "I came here to rip your home apart and take your belongs for my own! That includes your cups, bowls, pillows, jewelry…ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING!"

Fred and Barney were in shock. "W-We're gonna call the cops!" Fred said, trembling.

Turtelli laughed and snapped his fingers. "Oh, I don't think so…fatso!"

The muscular henchmen attacked Fred and Barney and beat them up. Then they tied them up and threw them into a couple of reclining chairs, strapping them down so they couldn't roll off.

"OW! Hey! Let us go!" Fred cried, struggling in his bonds.

"Don't rob us! Don't take our bowling balls!" Barney yelled.

"Bowling balls?" said Turtelli, grinning. "Ya know, I've always wondered how much a Stone Age bowling ball is worth. Search the closets, boys! Find those bowling balls!"

"Nooo!" Barney sobbed.

"Barney, pull yourself together!" Fred told him, "We're in an awful jam. These crooks are gonna rob us blind and there's nothing we can do about it!"

"I don't want them take my bowling ball!" cried Barney.

The henchmen pulled everything out of the closet including coats, golf clubs, tennis rackets, and Fred's Water Buffalo lodge hat.

"Where's your bowling ball, fatso?"

"It should be in the closet!" Fred said, nervously. "That's where I always keep it."

Turtelli turned towards Barney. "And where's _your_ bowling ball?"

"I'll never tell you!" Barney shouted, "I want to keep my bowling ball!"

Turtelli was losing his patience very fast.

"Make them tell you where the bowling balls are, boss!" said a henchman.

"Don't hurt us, Mr. Turtelli!" Fred pleaded.

"Why do you want our bowling balls so badly?" Barney wondered.

Turtelli grabbed Fred by the tie and glared at him. "For the last time, fat boy…tell me where you keep your bowling ball."

"I told you…I keep it in the closet!"

"Then why isn't it there?"

Fred was truly baffled. "I…I d-don't know. Maybe my wife, Wilma, took it."

Turtelli raised his black eyebrows. "Well, for your sake, I sure hope she brings it back very, very soon."

"I'll never tell you where _my_ ball is!" Barney said, though he was trembling with fear.

"This crap has gone far enough," Turtelli said, reaching into his jacket.

Fred and Barney gulped in unison.

Turtelli pulled out a huge white feather with a black tip.

Fred's eyes widened in pure terror. "Oh…oh no."

"Oh yes, fatso," Turtelli said, grinning.

"No, no, come on…you don't have to use that feather," Barney said, trying to reason with him.

"Will you tell me where your bowling ball is?"

"No!"

"Then you will pay," Turtelli said, simply. "You will laugh and laugh and laugh until you break."

"Please, don't do this!" Fred begged him.

"Shut up, fat boy! Now accept your punishment!"

Then Turtelli leaned down and began stroking Fred's exposed soles with the feather.

"OH NO! STOP IT! HAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE C-CUT IT OUT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Talk, Flintstone! Unless you want this to continue for a long, long time. You see, this is my favorite torture method and I could go on like this all day…all night…all year. So you better start talking…NOW!"

"I DON'T KNOW! PLEASE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! B-BARNEY MAKE HIM STOP! OOOOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHO! H-HELP ME BARNEY!"

Barney didn't know what to do. He wanted to help Fred but he also didn't want this fiendish Don Turtelli to get his gloves on his precious bowling ball.

"Cootchie cootchie coo," teased Turtelli as he dragged the feather up and down Fred's soles and glided it between his chubby toes.

Despite going barefoot every day of his life, Fred's feet had somehow managed to stay just as soft and tender as the day he was born. Therefore, his bare soles were extremely sensitive to tickling.

"NOOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT MY TOES! PLEEEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAP!" Fred howled, tears filling his eyes. This reminded him of the time he got his ankles trapped under a fence and his mean neighbor tickled his soles mercilessly.

Barney felt for him and was tempted to tell them where his bowling ball was, if only to make Turtelli leave Fred alone.

"Stop! Leave my pal alone. If he says he doesn't know, he doesn't know," Barney said, boldly.

Turtelli stopped tickling Fred's feet and walked over to Barney. "I'm sorry…were you talking to me?"

"Yes, Mr. Turtelli. I'd appreciate it if you would stop tickle torturing my friend's feet."

Turtelli chuckled and waved the feather around. "So, are you saying that…you want a turn?"

Barney gulped. He was extremely nervous. He knew that he was just as ticklish as Fred.

"Do whatever you want," Barney said, before he could stop himself. "T-Tickle me…all you want…I won't tell you anything."

Turtelli grinned evilly. "Well, well, we have a tough nut here. But I'll crack you. I crack all tough nuts eventually." With that, he leaned down and started gliding the feather up and down Barney's soles.

"OH GOSH HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! NO NO PLEASE DON'T! DON'T TICKLE MY FEET HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!"

Naturally, Turtelli ignored his pleas for mercy and continued tickling. He let the long feather caress Barney's plump soles and slide back and forth under his toes.

"N-NO MORE! EEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHE! I'LL TALK! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! I-I'LL TELL YOU EVERYTHING!" Barney wailed, unable to take anymore of the brutal tickling on his delicate feet.

"Alright then…talk. Spill your guts."

Barney told them that his bowling ball was under his bed. So Turtelli and his henchmen went next door to the Rubble's residence to find it.

They returned empty handed and quite enraged.

"You idiots! Where are your bowling balls?!" Turtelli shouted in their faces.

Barney was confused…he put his bowling ball under his bed the last time he came home from bowling because he was too tired to put it away in the closet. If it wasn't there, he didn't know where it was.

Without another word, Turtelli yanked up Fred's clothes and began tickling his exposed belly button with the tip of the feather.

"AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO PLEASE STAHAHAHAHAP! OOOHOHOHOHOHOHO STOP TICKLING ME! I CAN'T TAKE IT HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Fred screamed as tears streamed down his fat face. He turned as red as tomato and started having convulsions.

Turtelli drilled the feather deep into Fred's navel, twirling it around in an endless, torturous circle.

"Tell me where your goddamn bowling balls are, or I'll tickle you until you wet yourself and throw up your lunch…and then I'm going to keep on tickling you!" said Turtelli, sadistically.

"Hey, lay off!" yelled Barney.

Turtelli chuckled as he turned to Barney. "You want another turn, don't you?"

Before Barney could protest, Turtelli lifted up his clothes and dug the feather into his belly button.

"EEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! OH NO PLEASE HEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! I DON'T KNOW WHERE HEEHEEHEEHEHE MY BALL IS!" Barney shrieked as his face turned as red as Fred's.

Pebbles and Bam-Bam were playing in the kitchen and they heard all the commotion coming from the living room. Both babies heard their daddy's laughter but figured that since they were laughing, they must be having fun. But when the laughing continued for a whole hour straight, the babies got suspicious and crawled out to the living room to see what was happening.

Fred and Barney were puking all over themselves from laughing so much and for so long. Their sides and ribs burned with pain. Tears flowed from their eyes in rivers. Turtelli would tickle Fred for several minutes, and then switch to Barney, and then move back to Fred again. He tickled their feet and belly buttons.

Pebbles and Bam-Bam could sense that their fathers were in extreme distress. They wanted to help them. So Bam-Bam came to their rescue…He ran up to Turtelli, picked him up by the ankle, and threw him out the window. Then he picked up the henchmen one at a time, and threw them out the window.

Stunned by the inhuman strength of that toddler, the villains rushed back to the time machine and headed back to their home in the 1980's.

Struggling to catch their breath, Fred and Barney had to remain tied up until their wives came home. But at least Don Turtelli was gone.

Wilma and Betty got home soon after Turtelli had left. They were shocked to find their husbands bound to chairs and covered with sweat and puke and tears. Fred and Barney told them the whole story and then asked what happened to their bowling balls.

"We took them to get cleaned," Wilma said as she reached into a bag and pulled out two shinning bowling balls that looked as good as new.

"We wanted to surprise you," Betty added.

"Well, girls, you could have saved us a lot of suffering if you had just left them here," Fred grumbled, still reeling from the brutal tickle torture.

"Cheer up, Fred," Barney told him, "At least we get to keep our balls."

"Yeah…but what happened to that Turtelli creep?" Fred wondered.

"I'm not sure, Fred. After Bam-Bam threw him and other guys out the window, they just disappeared."

"The important thing is that you're both alright," said Wilma.

"Thanks to Bam-Bam," Barney said as he scooped his son into his arms. "It sure comes in handy having the strongest baby in the world for a son."

Fred walked over to the window and stared out at the yard. There was no sign of Don Turtelli or that strange metal cylinder thing. The evil mobster had left as mysteriously as he had come.

The End


End file.
